


Blame it on Primus

by greencateyes_99



Series: Hot Rod Tales. [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Large Breast, M/M, Meddling Gods, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 00:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greencateyes_99/pseuds/greencateyes_99
Summary: Rodimus isn't feeling well. He gets an surprise when seeing Ratchet. no one is amused.





	Blame it on Primus

Rodimus dances down one of the halls of the Lost Light, swaying his hips to a beat only he could hear. Mechs and femmes shuffled out of his way grumbling or snickering. He winked at Drift as he twirl’s pass before disappearing down a quieter hallway. Those that were in the hall ignored him as he made his way to his door, they were all used to their so-called Captain antics, so none bat an optic.

When the door to his room hisses closed though, Rodimus slumps. He opens his chest plates quickly and watches unhappily as very large energon sacks inflated. The flame mech hated them, they were tender from being trap against his plating and he was always aroused when he had to milk them, just to relieve some of the pressure. He had told no one of this new development, he was pretty sure the no Cybertronian should have equipment like this.

“Damn it,” Rodimus grumbles when he takes one sack in his hand. “Damn them to the pit.”

At first, Rodimus could ignore the sacks but then he had to start relieving pressure. It was only once an orn but that changed to twice to four to ten times an orn, and certain mechs were starting to notice.

Namely Megatron and Drift.

So far, neither mech has confronted him, yet. But he knew that they suspected something and no doubt that soon, through Drift, Ratchet would know and would come banging on his door.

“Maybe I should just suck it up and go see Ratchet,” the red and yellow mech sighs. “Or First Aid, yeah maybe First Aid less likely to hit me for something.”

He groans, even touching them was making him aroused. He was quick when finding the specially made pump he blackmails Brainstorm into making. The next few hours were torturous, and not in a good way, as overload after overload crashes over him.

“Okay may not torturous bad, if it was someone else doing this then it would be sooo good,” He moans as the pump gives another suck. “I wonder if I can get someone on the next planet to have a little fun with me, just to see if it would feel good.”

The pump beep letting him know that it was done. Next to the pump were five cubes of energon with six more empty ones ready to be filled, Rodimus would have to sneak them in the med bay. After the first time this happened, he had found out that the energon coming out of him was ultra-filtered energon. Purest of the pure and highly expensive, it was only giving to a mech when they first popped out of Vector Sigma. He was sure that the unaccountable energon was freaking out the medics.

For now, a nap was in order he could take the energon to the med bay later. A quick clean up and he had just fallen into a light recharge when his door chimed. Groaning and cursing whoever was on the other side, Rodimus slid off his berth. His chest was hurting all over again, that was very unusual.

He pings the mech on the other side to enter, he was not surprised to see that it was Ratchet. “Can I help you Ratch,” the red and yellow mech asks.

“Your aft in my med bay, now.”

Rodimus sighs, “Can I take a nap first? Why don’t you go bother Drift?”

Ratchet crosses his arms and glares, “Drift doesn’t need my attention now, but you however do. Now we can walk there, or I can have Magnus carry you there. Your choice.”

Rodimus sighs, “Fine last thing I need is to hear Mags complaining.”

“Magnus doesn’t complain.”

“Yes, he does, he just does it very quietly,” Rodimus snickers. “But seriously Ratchet there is nothing wrong with me.”

Ratchet raised an optic ridge, “Or really, then what are these?” he held up two of the cubes, “Now I’m just a medic but I am sure that energon just doesn’t appear out of nowhere.”

Rodimus gaps, “I…I don’t know what you're talking about.” He wouldn’t look at the medic and held his arms protectively over his chest and stomach.

Ratchet sighs, “Did you know that energon that comes from a mechs body has a copy of their CNA?”

Rodimus pales, “I-I didn’t know that. Thanks for the lesson Ratchet I’m sure that you are very busy so,” he waves towards his door, “Better get to before things pile up.”

The red and white medic gave him a deadpan look. He steps towards the door but doesn’t leave, instead whistled to someone outside. Rodimus began looking for a way out, but the only way out was his door which was being blocked by Ratchet.

“Ra-rachet buddy, nothing is wrong promise-

“Your choice.”

Rodimus pouted, “Fine.” He got up, “Lead the way.”

With the intention of running the other way, he was stopped, by the hand of Drift. Ratchet took his other shoulder and stirred him towards the med bay. Rodimus walked like it was perfectly normal for him to be with Drift and Ratchet, inside though he was so nervous that he was sure to fall on his face.

Drift was smiling the whole way but Rodimus could feel the worry in the mechs field. He tried to give off a confident vibe but judging by the two mechs, he failed. Something else he was poor at doing. All too soon the doors to the med bay were there and Rodimus once again tried to find a way out. He felt a little worried about wanting to run, he knew that he didn’t have a reason to fear the medic but something…something just felt off.

Thankfully the med bay was empty not even First Aid was around. Ratchet pointed to one of the private berths while he went to get his equipment. Rodimus didn’t sit down at first, he needed to bleed off the nervous energy building up in his frame. Or was that the energon sacks, his chest was hurting again. He absently rubbed the area over the sacks which also included that area where the spark chamber was. Which, now that he was looking, was causing his friend some distress.

“You okay there Drift?”

The swordsmech blinked, “Uh yea. Are you okay Roddy?”

“I feel perfect,” he lied. “Don’t know what has old Ratchet so up in arms.” Rodimus laughs.

Drift doesn’t join him, “You been rubbing your chest plates a lot recently. Everyone’s been worried that you have spark damage since the last…incident.” He looked serious at his Captain and friend.

Rodimus just chuckles bitterly, “I think you miscounted Drift. I doubt everyone is worried about me, I think it's just you and…and, well.” He shrugs, truthfully, he knew that he wasn’t that well liked on his own ship. It stung but he was dealing with it.

“Thunderclash is worried, so is Swerve and the whole crew,” Drift reasons.

“Swerve is just worried about not having my credits, Thunders is…he’s just an annoying noble pain in my neck,” Rodimus spats. He sits with his arms crossed, trying to keep his chest plates from opening. “As for the crew, they rather have Megs as their captain. Not some wash out ex-Prime who couldn’t ‘t keep hold of the matrix.”

Drift was quiet at first then, “Is that how you see yourself?”

Rodimus snorts, “does it matter? Not like it matters now.” He shifts as the pressure becomes unbearable, “No offense Drift but I need ya to leave for a bit.” He bends head touching his knees.

“Ratchet would have my helm if I left you alone,” the Swordsmech replies honestly.

“Drift, I ain’t joking around here. Please just this once,” Rodimus gives him his best pleading face.

Drift has become immune to that, “No.”

The fiery mech groans, “Frag it Drift!”

Drift jolts as the sound coming from Rodimus, “I think I’ll get Ratchet.” He makes for the door.

“Too late,” groans Rodimus. “Drift, buddy, don’t think that I’m trying to arouse you or something but-

Rodimus doesn’t finish his sentence, he couldn’t form the words as he lets his chest plates open and sighs in relief as the pressure lessens. The hiss of the door, however, snaps him back to reality, standing and staring in open jaw shock was Ratchet.

But there was someone missing, Rodimus looks around the medic for Drift, “Where did Drift go?” A groan from the ground had him looking over his big sacks and the berth, the poor mech had fainted, “Never mind.”

“Rodimus…what? What the pit did you do to yourself!” Ratchet shouts.

“Nothing!” the red and yellow mech yells back, “I woke up normal then later felt weird went to see Aid everything was normal and didn’t think nothing about it until just before I went to recharge my chest plates pop open and these inflated.” Rodimus vents, “Only now they have gotten bigger.”

“When was this?”

“Around our last trip near Cybertron.”

“Last trip to…” Ratchet whispers thinking before glaring at the younger mech. “you mean to say that you didn’t report an unknown medical condition until we had to drag you in here thinking that you suffered some sort of spark damage!” the medic roared, “Primus kid!”

“Sorry Ratchet,” Rodimus mutters sulkily.

“You bet your sorry red aft you’re sorry, now hold still while I scan everything,” just like that the medic was all professional. “Oh, but first, since you’re not in life threating danger,” he gave Drift a kick to the helm, “Get up he’s fine.”

The white swordsmech pulled himself up and sat in the chair next to the berth. He looked at Rodimus groggily before his optics landed on his friend’s hands pawing at two large soft…

“…breast?” he blurted out, “Since when did you have breast, Rod?”

“What?”

“What?”

Two voices ask though Ratchet, having spent more time with organics than the younger mech, deadpan.

Drift waved as hand towards Rodimus, “Well that’s what they look like.” He blushes a little.

Ratchet scowls at the white mech, “And how would you know what breast looked like?”

“Wing was very…thorough in his lessons.”

“I see, in that case, to answer your first question, no we don’t have these.” Ratchet pointed a scanner at Rodimus’s chest, “but considering that its Rodimus.”

“Hey!”

“I am leaving nothing out,” Ratchet sighs. “this isn’t telling me anything,” he places the scanner off to the side, “I am going to need you to open up.”

While Ratchet went off to get another tool, Rodimus leans over to Drift, “So what else do you know about…breast?”

Drift shrugs, “Not much. Just that organics use them to feed their young. You could look up some Earth facts if you want to know more.”

The ex-prime grumbles, “if they feed their young how can they keep themselves grounded? These things are way too sensitive.”

Drift chuckles, “I think that’s just you Rod.” He laughs more when he hears his friend curse.

Before their conversation could continue Ratchet steps back in. “What are you two up to?” he asks after seeing a cursing Rodimus and a chuckling Drift.

“Nothing Ratchet.”

“I don’t believe it,” the medic said. “Either way you,” he pointed to Drift, “Out.” When the swordsmech left he turned to Rodimus, “and you lay back and open up. I am going to have to look at your spark before moving to other parts.”

“Why my Spark?” Rodimus asks as he lays back on the berth. “I thought we were trying to figure out why I grown breast, gees that’s awkward to say.”

“We are, but I am starting at the center then branching out,” explained Ratchet. “A lot of things can be traced back to a bot’s spark.”

Rodimus tried to hold still as Ratchet worked around his spark, but it tickled.

“Stop wiggling,” Ratchet frowns when he saw something.

“Can help it, it feels weird.”

“You need to hold still, I think I see something,” Rodimus freezes as Ratchet started poking his spark. “What do you remember during our last trip to Cybertron?”

Rodimus stops himself from shrugging, “No much. Couldn’t sleep so I went out to wander around, ya know to find someone to spend the rest of the dark cycle with. I…now that I am thinking about it I was feeling something.”

Ratchet peered up at the younger mech, “Something?”

“Yeah, like uh like I felt like I should go one way when I was wanting to go another. Does that make sense?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well I wanted to check out this new bar, but I found myself walking away from it and each time I would go back I ended up right back at this door. I…” Rodimus felt uncertain about how to explain what happens next.

Ratchet seeing his hesitation waved him on, “You went through, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” the red and yellow mech slumps. “I know it was dumb, but it was like I didn’t have control. I don’t remember much after that, I woke up the next orn in a temple with the priest scowling at me. Soon after these started giving me grief.” He wiggles some more, “I do know that I felt really good, like had a great frag good, and surprisingly my tank was topped off. My fuel levels were low before I blank out.”

Ratchet scowls harder, it sounds too much like Rodimus was a victim of rape. He has seen too many cases back during the war not to compare Rodimus’s case to them, the only problem none of the others had side effects. The medic frowns, no that wasn’t completely right, there was one mech that had acted differently after disappearing. In fact, Ratchet pulls up old records and compares them to Rodimus. He looks at the pictures and looks at the tiny spot on Rodimus’s spark, it looked like that exact symptom as the other mech.

But why leave him at a temple?

Ratchet tried to find who the other mech was and see if there was more the two had in common. His pump freezes when the name pops up.

“Well, frag.”

“What, what happens? Is something wrong?” Rodimus tries to sit up to see what was wrong.

Ratchet closes his chest plates and forces him back on the berth, “Nothing just found something. I want you to stay on this berth until I get back. I will have Drift sit on you if you disobey.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere, Rodimus nods, “Fine, but you are sure that nothing wrong?”

“Yeah, just found a lead.”

Ratchet leaves after making sure that Drift knew not to let their overzealous captain out of the med bay. He briskly walks to the command deck, ignoring Megatron and Ultra Magus the medic marches over to where Blaster was watching him curiously and a little warily.

“I need you to contact this mech,” he says and pings the host mech with the information.

Blaster blinks confused, “you sure?” Ratchet nods, “okay not sure if he’ll answer though,” Blaster shrugs.

The medic could feel the curious gazes of both Megatron and Magus on his back, but he was not about to tell the two his reason for being there. The entire deck waited in silence until Magus spoke.

“Ratchet do you know where Rodimus is, he is late for his shift.”

“He is in my care until further notice and no I will not say why and no it is not something that is going to be gossip fodder.” He glares at every bot trying to listen in.

Just as Megatron opens his mouth, a face appears on one of the screens. His white scowling face framed by a red chevron and the door wings on his back.  Everyone held their breath as questions were whispered.

Why did Ratchet call this mech?

What did this mech know about Rodimus?

How were the two connected?

“Ratchet,” the mech says.

Ratchet walked up to the screen and press the button the turned their conversation private. “Prowl, I have some questions that you may have an answer for.”

If the disgraced ex SIC was surprised, he did not show, “I will try to answer but as you can tell I am very limited on time.” To prove his words, Prowl left his wrist and turned his head. “I am surprised that you wish to talk to a criminal such as me.”

Ratchet stared taking in the damage, “What had been happening over there?”

“That isn’t what you want to ask me medic.” Prowl chided.

“Right, back during the war you were brought to me with strange spark fluctuations. You didn’t stay long so I never knew what happen, but something happens. So, my question is what really happened and I don’t mean that slag you told Optimus.”

Prowl looked at the medic, he looked at the mechs behind him then back at Ratchet. “They are not peavey to this, its just us.” Ratchet says, “Please Prowl I have a mech who needs my attention and I can’t help him since I only seen this once and it was back before Praxis fell. You know something.”

Prowl jerked like he been slapped, “Another mech. Tell me does he have a smaller orb around his spark?” Ratchet nods, “I see. Tell me Ratchet have you ever wondered how Praxis population grew when we barely left our city? Vector Sigma and the other hot spots were far enough away that traveling was expensive.”

Ratchet tilted his head, “that’s true. But it was assumed that nearly all Praxians were constructed cold.” He thinks hard and flinches, “you mean to tell me that isn’t right?”

Prowl nods, “Sparklings were rare in Praxis. We found a way to have them regardless. Sometimes a mech would suddenly act strange and disappear for some time before being found in a temple. Later their plating would start to distort, it was later that we found that there was nothing wrong with bots in question.”

An idea started forming in Ratchets mind, “Your saying that, that!”

Prowl nods, “Yes. Somehow mechs and femmes in Praxis would return to us carrying newsparks. That was what happen to me. Once you confirmed that there was an orb around mine, I knew what had happened. I didn’t wish for my sparkling to be involved in a war and hid until it emerged. I don’t know what became of him.” He frowns some more, “until recently that it.”

“I see,” Ratchet stroked his chin. “Any other side effects?”

Prowl tilted his helm, “Depending on the one in question the side effects varied from mech to mech. If you would tell me what this mech is facing perhaps I could-

“You know I cannot divulge another mechs personal information.”

“I am aware medic, but you do want to know if this mech is in the same situation, correct?”

Ratchet frowns at the Praxian, “You know the term breast right.” He smiles at the brightening of Prowls optics, “He seems to be making the purest form of energon and its pooling in these two sacks in his chest. Problem is, is that there seems to be too much, and it is causing him some discomfort.”

Prowl hums, “Has he been stress recently?” Ratchet shrugs, Prowl hums again, “I remember there being a condition of some carriers suffering when stressed. And those sacks are for the sparkling to feed from, if he is making too much it could be because he is stress, have him calm down and see if that helps. Truthfully, he should only be producing five cubes worth of energon an orn. Stress is bad for both carrier and sparkling.”

“I see,” now that he had the information, he was about to terminate the call, but something stops him. “Did anyone ever find out who was sparking these mechs?”

Prowl gave the medic a look, “Ratchet all of them including the one you are hiding have ended up in a temple. There was never any physical evidence of another mech or femme touching them.” He was smirking, “and no explanation as to how we felt so good and alive. I can tell you I had never felt so whole.” Then he frowns, “Now, however.”

“Who did that to you?”

Prowl would not look at him, “You would not believe me even if I showed you the video evidence.”

“Prowl-

“Go attend to your patient Ratchet and keep him safe from Cybertron and Megatron. There was a reason he destroyed my home.” Ratchet wasn’t given a chance to replied as the transmission was cut.

Cursing he spun back to glare at the curious mechs trying to hear what had been said. He walked pass the two officers and throws a wrench when they tried to follow.

“All those who are stupid enough to get injured are to see First Aid somewhere else. This med bay is quarantine until further notice.” He kicks the other medics out and locks the door.

What he finds inside, however, was both Drift and Rodimus on the same berth in a very intimate position. Ratchet had fist clenched and shaking, “I thought I said that you were supposed to watch him not interface with him!”

“But Ratchet-

“No buts,” he swings his wrench down on that white helm.

“Come on Ratchet he wasn’t doing any harm. See, they’re smaller now,” Rodimus showed off his now smaller sacks. “And Drift is now very full,” he smirks.

Ratchet, however, wasn’t impressed, “Off.” He commanded. “And you are on leave until your sparkling is born.”

He grins gleefully at the surprised look on the other mechs face, “Sparkling?”

Ratchet nods, “yes congratulations Rodimus, you somehow got sparked up by some supernatural being.”

“What?”

“What!” Rodimus yells. He shoves Drift off and jumps on the berth, “What do you mean supernatural being! Ya mean that-he-that…Primus knock me up!” he threw his hands in the air and clutched his helm. “How can he do that…that fragger just dump me in a temple!”

Before they could stop him Rodimus grabs the ships wide communicator, “Mags!”

“Yes Rodimus?”

“Get us to the nearest Temple of Primus.”

“…Why?”

“Because I am going to kick his godly aft and curse his audios raw! That jerk impregnated me!” he was torn away from the communicator before he could go on but not before he adds, “And get my carrier away from Cybertron. He has a lot of explaining to do.”

Ratchet snatches the communicator away and hangs up, judging by the silence on the other side he was sure that every mech was shocked into silence. “Well so much for secrecy,” Ratchet drawls.

Drift was busy calming the hissing mech down, but he nods in agreement. “So what’s a carrier and who is he?” he asks.

Rodimus jerks, “Oops wasn’t supposed to let that slip.”

“Its Prowl, isn’t it?” Ratchet asks he had already guessed.

Rodimus huffs, “Yeah, but he hasn’t acted like it in a long time. Not all of that is entirely his fault though. Maybe you can look at him?” he asks hopefully.

Ratchet rubs hand down his face, “If he lets me. Prowls not the most trusting of mechs.” Rodimus snorts, “But now you are my concern. He was surprisingly helpful, as for your breast, he says to remain calm and they should go down. You are producing so much because you are stressed.”

Rodimus laughs, “Stress? Stress did all this?” he waves at his chest. Ratchet nods, “Well Magus and Megs aren’t going to like this.”

“Those two can go suck exhaust, they are not ones having to deal with this. Pit even I don’t know how to deal with this, we’re all in uncharted territory.”

“but then how did Prowl know?” Drift asks sitting behind Rodimus.

“Because apparently this has been happening in Praxis before the war and he was one it happens to,” Ratchet explains. “Now I am going to put you on a strict diet. No High Grade or any of the like. You can have Mid-Grade and I would prefer you to take Low-Grade, but for now, until we resupply you are on Med-Grade.”

“Awww but that stuff is-,” seeing the glares of doom Rodimus quickly changes his words. “Is the best that came out of a Med Bay.” He smiles up at the medic who huffs.

“So, what now?” Drift asks he had been silent the whole time.

“Well that’s the thing,” Ratchet went to leave. “We have to start sparkling proof this whole ship,” the two other mechs paled, “Exactly, now if you two will excuse me I have to go explain your little outburst.”

Rodimus and Drift were left alone, “I am still going to kick his giant aft when I see him.” Rodimus suddenly says.

Drift looks down at the smaller mech, “who? Prowl?”

“No,” Rodimus twist to look up at Drift like he was crazy. “Primus,” he says like it was obvious.

Drift sighs, “right.” He rolls his optics, ‘only Rodimus would think to go up against a god.’

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own Transformers.


End file.
